Age when I gave birth 21
This was my only pregnancy & I had to have a csection.
My son is 11 months old now
I went into labor on my own at 330am and was going in for a no epidural natural birth. Things quickly changed and I got the epidural only for the guy to mess it up and have to take it out to restart. The epidural didn’t even work and I was having back labor like no other. I was also bleeding but the nurses just thought it was from checking me. I made it all the way to a 9 before my cervix swelled shut. Later they found out the bleeding was from me bleeding internally, I had to be taken to have an emergency c section. Everything went good, and I got to meet my beautiful baby boy.
Two months later I had to be cut open again to have my gallbladder removed. I didn’t get to fully heal from my c section before the surgery so I had to heal from two surgery’s while caring for my newborn and my 3 year old step son who lives with us full time. (My husband traveled work at the time, so for most part I didn’t have help) My little boy refused a bottle and was breastfed so you could imagine the pain I was in trying to feed him. But he is definitely worth it all.
Images: purple bra black pants 3 weeks postpartum
C section scar with baby I was 1 month postpartum
White bra grey pants scars I was 2 months post baby and 4 days post gallbladder surgery
Nude breastfeeding baby I was 5 months postpartum
Character pajama bottoms with stomach tattoo is today 11 months postpartum
Hello my name is Emily, I am 25 years old, and this is my 3 month old son Ethan Jai. Before my pregnancy I was 104. During I was 167. And now I am 130. I love my mommy marks because I wouldn’t have my baby boy without them
Today my son and I overcame a huge obstacle in my breast cancer journey. Today he breastfed for the first time after chemotherapy. I was diagnosed with breast cancer at 28 weeks pregnant. My cancer was stage 2, grade 3, and triple negative (very aggressive). So, the doctors decided to start chemotherapy while I was pregnant. After 5 cycles of chemo, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy. I was told I couldn’t breastfeed for weeks after chemo, so I was not allowed to feed him when he was born, and at first I was even told I wouldn’t be able to pump. The lactation consultant at the hospital wouldn’t even come in to see me. I kept asking questions and found a lactation consultant who was willing to do the research on my chemo meds, and find out how long it would take for each med to leave my milk. We later learned that I could breastfeed 10 days after a dose of chemotherapy. I also found out it was safe to pump. So, for 2 1/2 months I pumped and dumped to keep my milk supply, then when I started a chemotherapy with doses every other week instead of weekly, I got to breastfeed 4 days each cycle. Now, finally, after 4 months of pumping 6 times a day, I am able to breastfeed my son. We still face challenges. Radiation will likely dry up my milk on the effected side, but I feel victorious today. This was like taking the power over my body back. I’m the one in control of this one thing. This is something only I can do for my child, and if something happens to me, this is protection and health I can give him that will last the rest of his life.
Please share my story. I wasn’t able to find any information on breastfeeding with chemotherapy on-line. While every situation is different, I hope this will find some women who have been told they can’t breastfeed, and encourage them to keep looking for answers. Find an expert, and if you have the will, you will find a way.
Hi you all. Here is my birth story… I want you to understand how I got to the decision of homebirth and the feelings I had prior to it. I might bore some of you so please be warned that it’s a long story. Also, if there’s any spelling mistakes or incorrect grammar then I apologise in advance.
A bit of history:
Baby 1 30-05-1995 3.3kg elective caesarean. Doc said she was breach
Baby 2 21-01-2000 4.1kg repeat cs
Baby 3 23-06-2003 3.2kg same story
Baby 4 08-12-2010 3.5kg cs
Baby 5 28-04-2012 3.4kg cs trying for a UB but ended up having cs being 8cm dilated
Baby 6 23-03-2014 3.4kg Unassisted Home Birth
Ok so here goes…
My birth story UBA5C took 18 years in the making. Every one of my beautiful children’s births brought me a little closer to my dream birth. Starting with my first pregnancy…I was young and naïve…believed every word the doctors said…went for every check-up etc. and when they told me I needed a cs I just went along with it.
with my second pregnancy the thought of a natural birth came up but yet again I believed the “trained professionals”…”once a Caesar, always a Caesar”
By nr 3 I had given up on the idea of a natural birth…
Eight years later I met my true love and when we found out I was preggies we were overjoyed. Early on in my fourth pregnancy I decided to try hb. By the first couple of contractions I decided to go to hospital. Stupid hey? Maybe. I don’t know why I didn’t even try harder but maybe I know now that I wasn’t prepared enough. I got a lot of negative feedback from the hospital staff for even getting pregnant after 3cs. Good idea to make someone feel bad when they are vulnerable. I hated every minute being in that hospital.
I got pregnant with baby no 5 and decided to learn as much as I can about vbamc. I went into labour around 07:00 the morning of 27 April 2012. I just knew something was happening. Not to mention the show I had since a week prior. Waiting and wandering when I was going into labour. I actually went for a long brisk walk the day before. Buy now I was 41 weeks and ready to meet this little man.
I didn’t tell anyone that I was in labour and went on with my normal day. I took a nap with my little one and decided to do my shopping trip after our nap…when I woke up something just told me that there’s no way I’m going to be able to do a shopping trip now! Ok so we are low on sugar, low on milk, low on cereal… whatever! It can wait!
Long story short… by midnight the pain was more than I could take (or thought I could take) so hubby and I went to hospital.
At the hospital I was told to “lie down and wait”. Lie down? Are u insane?! Well I listened and lied on my back too scared to move. The contractions were unbearable and I was about 8cm when my waters ruptured. Lol they still made me sign a form to give them permission to insert the loop. Lucky for me I was too far dilated, they said. Oh and not to have ANY more babies…go figure…
July of 2013 I found out I was pregnant…again…yes..you would think we were going at it like rabbits but that’s not so…remember…it only takes once. And oh boy! Once was spot on!!! It was quite a pleasant shock. Hubby said it was an old test and I said: “feel it, it’s wet, I just peed on it!” that was like the 3rd test I did that night lol!
I KNEW I was going to have my HB. I did LOTS of research, (not that there was much info on uba5c/hba5c/vba5c). I spoke to, emailed and “facebooked” lots of people. Majority of them telling me it’s too high risk. (Even a well-known doctor told me it’s too high risk…imagine I listened to him. Note so self: email him my birth story…)
I came in contact with an awesome doula (Heidi). The first time I spoke to her her voice was peaceful and reassuring. I think by that time she had more faith in me and my body than what I had. We kept in contact all through my pregnancy and tried on a couple of occasions to meet up. 8 days before Kydans birth we eventually got to meet…and come to think of it we almost postponed that appointment too!
In the last couple of weeks the fear of uterine rupture stuck its ugly head out again. I was starting to doubt that my body was able to birth this baby. Maybe it was also due to the fact that I had to bury both my parents within 42 days of each other…
I had a difficult time enjoying the last 2 months of my pregnancy because of this loss and an impending move.I prayed that things would work out…not the way I wanted it to work out but the way it God wanted it to be. When I did that I started to feel more at peace and I felt more positive that my body would do what it was designed to do.
Fears will always be in the back of your mind. But you deal with them and make peace with it. Then and only then I was ready for this beautiful birth.
Because we were moving I sent all my baby goodies to the new house with hubby…he still made a joke that I’m sending all the stuff to the other house…”what if baby comes at the old house?” I told him not to worry and that baby will only come mid-April. Haha!
Friday 21 march was the beginning of a long weekend. My doula still asked whether it would be okay if she went away for the weekend and I said “Sure” …she had nothing to worry about…
I woke up 11:59pm Friday night with a huge pee. Wiped off and saw what I thought was too much blood. Hubby walked passed and I told him I was in labour. His response: “ye right, don’t joke now”. I phoned Heidi and she said not to worry it’s just a show. She told me to get some rest and thank heavens I listened to her. She phoned me early the next morning and said she was making the 5 hour trip back home and I should rest. I do apologise again for cutting her family’s long weekend short. Xxx
I had contractions most of the morning and early afternoon, trying to relax and watch TV. Everything was now on hold(remember this was our moving weekend). Thinking that baby will come quickly I just lounged around. When Heidi came over around late afternoon the contractions were still far apart. We went for a long walk with pram in tow. We walked passed a car with a little sicker saying “don’t push” on the window…funny!
After the walk we contemplated whether she should go home and come back later. That thought didn’t last long as things started kicking up a notch. Heidi and my 10 year old son were timing contractions and later on I got a bit fed up telling them when contractions started and stop. So I stopped doing it. Hubby was handling the move and the two little ones.
I didn’t want to see how long and far apart the contractions were as I was worried that I would lose focus. PS. Dirty spot on tile floor is good to focus on when in contraction. Lol. Note to self: floors needs a wash.
Late evening I decided to lean on the side of my bed when a contraction came. That only helped for a little while and I got into the shower…Oh boy! The water felt amazing. It took the pain away in an instant. Some counter pressure also helped quite a bit. Not wanting to waste the water that I needed for the bath, I decided to try my bed again.
We decided to fill the bath. I couldn’t wait for the bathwater to be ready! I was looking forward to just lying in the bath. I was in the bath for around 3 or 4 hours and we had to top up the hot water a couple of times. I had gotten a nice position in the bath on my left side with my right arm hanging over the taps and my legs straight down. So when a contraction came I could anchor myself nicely against the side of the bath pushing with my feet against the bottom of the bath.
With every contraction I tapped on the side of the bathe and Heidi knew that I had to squeeze her hand. By the end when the contractions were quite painful I was worried that I would break her fingers.
I got out of the bath to pee at one point but couldn’t hold myself up lol I felt like 2 tons of bricks so she and hubby helped me. I think it was of lying in the bath so long being weightless that I couldn’t carry my own weight. At some point I felt some trickle like my water braking but it didn’t last long and so I just ignored it. My contractions also starting changing to more of a pushing feeling or like a feeling that to poo. Shame my ten year old was lying on his pillow outside the bathroom door for ages, waiting for this baby to make its appearance. Thank you u sweetheart for caring. Xxx I sent him to bed a little after that.
Something just told me to get out of the bath so off to my bed I went. At this stage hubby was lying down with my 3yr old because he was a little antsy and running on all 6 cylinders. Maybe because he could feel the energy in the house changing. He is still on the boob and so badly wanted “milky”. I felt so bad not being in the mood to breastfeed him but really…I couldn’t concentrate on breastfeeding and coping with contractions.
I got on my knees on my bed with the pillows propped under my chest. I started getting shivers and felt I needed to get back to the warmth of the bath because if I started shivering I would not be able to concentrate on the contractions and my breathing. Lol halfway off the bed I got a contraction and it stopped me right in my tracks. I was freezing even though I had a pyjama shirt on. Doula got me warmed up and I got back on my bed..bath forgotten.
Soon I needed to change positions and as I reversed of my bed on all fours a gush of water just squirted out onto poor Heidi. So she’s been baptised in amniotic fluid. (Oops!) I think that was the last of the waters coming out that was lodged in front of babies head.
Okay now I’ve gotten myself leaning with my back against my headboard and pillows under my backside. Not in a laying position…more of a squatting position as I am terrified of lying on my back in labour. (remember the “lie down and wait” saga with my 5th baby) And as you know lying on your back does zero favours for gravity.
Every time I had to push I curled my fingers around the top of the headboard giving me an anchor to push. That helped quite a bit.
Around 03:00/03:30 doula woke hubby and the three of us sat there pushing…well I pushed and they watched! By the last push doula said in a stern voice: “nou moet jy druk Talana!!!” …”push Talana!!!” Oh boy did I PUSH PUSH PUSH!!! Bubbas head was out and not waiting for the next contraction I gave a little more push and he was out! 04:15 giving a nice loud cry for his debut into this world. I was crying too. Tears of joy, accomplishment, love…
Somewhere in that last push I was waiting for the “ring of fire”…where was it? I had a little burning sensation but not as I anticipated. Yay! I eluded the “RING OF FIRE!” (Happy dance) I got baby on my bare chest and he starting nursing like a grown man with a hangover.
I was waiting for the next contraction to deliver the placenta but that didn’t come. If this placenta doesn’t come I would have to go to hospital. HOSPITAL??? No way!!! There was no way I was going to hospital to deliver a placenta!!!with the help off hubby and doula I got myself and bubba off the bed and squatted over the container and just pushed. Thank goodness it came out, intact, I was so relieved. There was still some bleeding but that was from the tear, not a very big tear but it was there.
When the cord stopped pulsating and it was limp and white hubby tied the cord with dental floss and cut it with a scissor…a blunt one!!! (oops, my bad…only scissor I had)
Hubby was so proud of me…I was so proud of me!
He made tea and him and doula cleaned up. Shame she still had a 40 minute drive home. Hubby went to lie by the other kids and bubba and I had skin to skin and was nursing and sleeping and he pood on me sometime when we were dosing off but that didn’t worry me. I got up Sunday morning around 9:30 and was a little light headed when I got to my feet but I was feeling amazing and I was on a God given natural high. I couldn’t believe how good I felt and by late morning I was already on our trampoline with my other little ones! My high lasted for days and days after the birth.
SENSITIVE READERS SHOULD STOP READING NOW!
I kept my placenta. I made some placenta prints with it. Cleaned it up, chopped it up and froze it. I swallow one “booster” every day.
You don’t need much for a homebirth…just a pregnant woman!
My hb kit wasn’t even complete yet but I managed perfectly with what I had. The only things i used from my incomplete kit was:
About 7 towels (I ended up throwing one away)
2 receiving blankets
Container for placenta
All of which I already had in my home except for the gloves.
Now 7 weeks later…hindsight…
You won’t believe how different this birth was in relation to my cs. From the recovery to the way I feel about myself, the birth, the baby…everything…different…
Kydan’s umbilical cord came off by day 5 (the other kiddies by day 10) and I think it was a lot to do with the delayed cord clamping. My tear healed within 2 weeks without any stitches and everything looks perfect down there. (tmi?) The light headedness only lasted around 3 days.
7 Weeks later I still feel very proud and in awe of this beautiful amazing empowering experience I was blessed with.
Thank you so much for reading my birth story and please share my story with those who you think might need the encouragement, understanding or those who are just nosy…xxx
My UBA5C was the most empowering thing I’ve done in my whole life…I DID IT!!!
My name is Hope, I’m 24 years old and I had my first child this July. I had a truly empowering and beautiful natural childbirth at a birth center, and my baby is absolutely gorgeous! For the first couple months after having her, I was very unhappy with my body. I thought that is was gross, abnormal, etc etc. My wonderful boyfriend always told me how beautiful I was, and not in a demeaning sort of way (I think that they whole “I love you because you made our child” this is crap–yeah it’s true, but it also sounds like you’re saying “you’re not actually pretty, but because of our pre-existing relationship I think you are” ), he unequivocally called me beautiful. I’m starting to believe and understand this. I know just how strong I am, and how strong my body is. I pushed out a baby that weighed almost 9 pounds, after about 24hrs of labor, all on my own. I’m a superhero! And if I am going to love my little girl, no matter he size or shape, then I have no excuse but to love myself.
I am now 4 months post-partum, and still 10-15 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight. but my baby and my boyfriend both love the soft mom snuggles that my new body can give them.
I feel for the women who come here to commiserate in their sadness and deflated self-opinions. I think that they are subverting what could be a revolutionary movement, and turning it into something that only serves to reinforce the overly strict ideals of beauty that we are trying to correct! Remember that learning to love yourself starts with positive affirmations– say it even if you don’t believe it!
Body pics are 4mo post-partum, not sure on the BF photo.
Like most young ladies, I struggled with body image. It was the most severe when I was in middle school and my doctor made a comment about my weight being high. I was only 124 pounds, which was a healthy weight for my height. I ripped myself apart for the longest time. When I was 20, I met my husband. I weighed 120 pounds, at 5’2″. I knew I looked good, but I didn’t feel it. We planned our pregnancy and successfully conceived one month after we married. I embraced pregnancy because I finally had a reason to look bloated! I loved it so much, we are planning on a second pregnancy already.
I gained 20 pounds while I was pregnant, which is slightly below the 25-35 pounds of weight gain that is recommended for my body type. I was on track to gain 25-35, but I stopped gaining weight at 28 weeks because I lost my appetite. My baby boy, Finn, was born at 38 weeks and 1 day, weighing 6 pounds 8 ounces. I didn’t get a single stretch mark and my body snapped right back into shape. My friends called me a freak of nature and my neighbor told me that I am the kind of woman that other women hate.
Now, at 7 months postpartum, I am 5’2″ and 115 pounds. I have never been in better shape, and not only that, I’ve never had so much self confidence! There is nothing I did to get where I am today. I did not exercise during pregnancy or after pregnancy and I do not eat very well. I honestly believe that breastfeeding may even have had something to do with it.
My breastfeeding story is interesting, to say the least. I breastfed until Finnegan was 3 weeks old, completely stopped for 8 weeks, and decided to relactate when he was 10 weeks old. I pumped around the clock, took every supplement and drug I could get my hands on, and regained a full supply and our exclusively breastfeeding relationship within one month. My weight plateaued for a while until I relactated, when I lost an additional 5 pounds.
I feel like I get a lot of scrutiny because of my figure. People tell me that it isn’t fair or that it’s wrong. I believe that every woman has a shape, this just happens to be mine, and mine just happens to be one that society favors. Unfortunately that makes the women who have naturally different shapes feel that they are doing something wrong, or that they are not beautiful. All woman are beautiful, though! All mothers are beautiful. Every body is amazing. Just look at what you did with it; look at who you made. :) Pregnancy and childbirth are the most spectacular experience and the most incredible thing I have ever done!
The photos I have posted are of myself at full-term while pregnant with Finn, myself at 7 months postpartum, and my bouncing baby boy! Thank you for reading.
I am a mother. I have two beautiful kids, a 5-year-old boy and a 2 ½ -year-old girl. They are awesome—they make me laugh, cry, smile, get angry, and love more than I’ve ever imagined.
When I was growing up, I always had irregular periods. When I was 29, I went to the OB because I’d had a 2 ½ week period (blech!). She diagnosed me with PCOS at that time and told me it would probably be difficult for me to get pregnant without medication. I didn’t want to take medication, but I had ALWAYS wanted kids, so I left her office dejected and cried for days. My then-boyfriend (now husband) and I stopped using birth control (why bother, you know?) and I got pregnant one cycle later. I went back to that same OB, and it was a terrible experience—she basically told me that I’d probably miscarry, told me what it would feel like, and she didn’t even give me the “congratulations on your baby” gift that was in the room. Again, I left her office crying. I went back two weeks later and her nurse was astounded that I was still pregnant.
I refused to go back to that awful doctor after the third appointment. I found a midwife, who was WONDERFUL. We saw her at every appointment throughout my easy, complication-free pregnancy, and she delivered my baby boy. The only problem with the whole pregnancy was that my son was late, and we ended up having him induced at 41 weeks (it was Christmastime and we were worried he’d be born on the 25th if we didn’t induce). The induction was as non-invasive as possible—he was really ready to go—and I had a natural, drug-free labor. It was beautiful, and so was my gorgeous baby boy.
At first, things went well with feeding my son. He ate really well. But problems started when he was 10 weeks old and I went back to work. He would cry every couple of hours for food all throughout the day and night. I would feed him and feed him, but he just kept crying. Eventually, my husband suggested that we try formula. The night he first had formula was the first night we slept well since he’d been born. I felt terrible! What was wrong with my milk?
It turns out that I wasn’t producing enough milk. In fact, by the time we realized it, he was barely getting any milk at all. I felt so bad—he had been literally starving and I didn’t know it. Everything I’d ever heard or read said that you should breastfeed for at least the first 6 months, and I couldn’t even make it to 3. I was so worried that he’d have allergies, or that he wouldn’t get enough antibodies, or that his general health would decline. I felt so guilty that my body didn’t work right, that I couldn’t feed my own child. After all, women have been feeding their own children for centuries, but I couldn’t make enough milk. It was terrible. As it turns out, my son is fine. He is perfectly healthy. He’s strong, smart, and very sweet and caring. I love him so much.
After I went through all this with my son, I started finding out that other women go through this, too. Not everyone’s body is capable of producing enough milk to feed a baby. It is grossly underreported on pregnancy and baby blogs, and yet so many women go through this. It is terrible—as a mother, you want to do the right thing. You want to give your kid the best nutrition, send him/her to the best schools, etc., but if you can’t for reasons beyond your control, there’s no one soothing you and telling you that you’re still a good mom. YOU ARE STILL A GOOD MOM even if you can’t breastfeed, or if your kid goes to public school, or if you work outside the home. I want to say that again – YOU ARE STILL A GOOD MOM. I like to think I’m a good mom, too.
Hi, My name is Korin. Im 24 years old. Mother of 3.
I used to be tiny, athletic, and very in tuned with my weight before I had children. Before I got pregnant with my Birthdaughter, I was 5’5″, 130lbs, very muscular as I was in dance all through High School. I was 16 when I had her, weighing in at 178lbs before delivery, stretched out, scars everywhere. I was extremely self concious afterwards. Alot of it had to do with the fact that I gave her up for adoption, and that I had no baby to go along with the stretch marks. I stayed in dance throughout school and was able to get down to a healthy 145.
At the Age of 20, I gave birth to my son. With that pregnancy, I managed to put a whopping 75lbs on my 5’5″ frame. I also stretched out even more, what I thought was not possible…
After having him I got into a nice work out regimin and got back down to 155lbs. And had to be satisfied with that, because no more weight was dropping off…
Then at the age of 23 I gave birth to my Daughter. Not only was I super picky the whole pregnancy about my weight, I am even worse now afterwards. Luckily I couldnt stretch any more, but I did get back up to 200lbs..
Now Im 6 months post partum and having the hardest time with my weight by far. I have been breastfeeding exclusively, and that has helped me get into my pre pregnancy jeans.. but I have this stubborn flat tire around my waist that I cannot get rid of. I want to have surgery so bad just to get rid of it.. but I do not have the money. I am stuck at 165lbs. i seemed to have an extra 10lbs per kid attached to me… sigh
I know, I should appreciate the fact that I am not super obese, and am a healthy mother of three… but its quite hard when all I want to do is be happy with my body, and not beat myself up over it.
I see a ton of ladies hating on their post-baby bodies, and some very genetically blessed ladies who are rockin’ it.
I’m right here in the middle. I gained some weight, and I lost it. I started my pregnancy around 170 lbs. I struggled with hyperemesis in my first trimester and dropped to 145 lbs. By delivery day I weighed 191 lbs. At six weeks postpartum I’m weighing 167 lbs. I’m hitting the gym. My belly is so textured with stretch marks that it reminds me of a trapper keeper I had in middle school.
I still have some weight to lose, and I don’t know when those stretch marks will fade.
My unmedicated water birth showed me how strong and capable I am.
Breastfeeding and the patience it requires is my new yoga.
I love myself, and I love my body.
And you should too.
You made a baby. That is pretty amazing.
If you’re not happy with your body, please try to remember all that you did. Nourish yourself well. Put your baby in a carrier and dance in the living room or in the stroller and walk until youfeel the burn. Leave baby with a sitter and take a class that sounds fun or take a mommy and me class. Do something active a few times a week.
Don’t make excuses. Take care of your body and love yourself. Flaunt your self esteem. It’s a great example to your children.
~Number of pregnancies and births: Two pregnancies. One very empowering, unmedicated, water birth.
~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: I am a mother of one amazing daughter. I am almost six weeks postpartum.
# of pregnancies and births: 2 pregnancies, 2 births
Ages of children: 3 and 9 months
When my first daughter was born she showed a clear preference for my right breast to nurse from. When she began biting ‘lefty’ terribly to the point of bleeding I decided to nurse her exclusively from my right breast. I did consult with Dr. Newman first and he recommended it. So began her near 3 year career of nursing from one breast, til the day she weaned on New Years Eve 2010 of her own accord. She nursed through my entire second pregnancy and well after my second daughter was born. After my next little lady was born, the same thing happened. A clear preference for my right breast and a severe distaste for poor ‘lefty’. I decided to pull my left breast off the menu and now my second darling daughter only nurses from the one side.
Because of this I am very lopsided. “Righty” is a D cup, full, covered in stretch marks, veiny with a lovely pink nipple, always ready to fill a tiny tummy with milky goodness. “Lefty” is a small B cup, soft, even toned skin and near empty. It sure tries to keep up with the non-demand for milk though.
I do rely on the thoughts that someday they will soon resemble each other again. Also, I’m proud that even though I’ve had strange difficulties with my picky babies and their preferences, I’ve still been able to nurse them well and as long as they’d like. I’m not ready to allow them to go back to being a source of womanly sexiness between my husband and I, but that will come someday and like a good man he respects that entirely.
We’re all done having babies, so I know I’ll look rockin’ in a bathing suit again within the next few years. Fingers crossed!